


Encore

by sinemoras09



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fellatio, Fluff and Smut, Happy Sex, Loss of Virginity, Sixty-nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinemoras09/pseuds/sinemoras09
Summary: A day in bed. Erik/Christine. AU. PWP, fluff.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 21
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

It was dark when Christine woke, but even though their bedroom was underground her eyes still were able to adjust to the near-total darkness. There was a thin candle somewhere in the periphery of her vision, most likely one that was left unattended by the side of Erik's piano, whose faint orange haze somehow trickled all the way to their bedroom.

Erik was asleep. Despite their intimacy earlier, he was once again clothed, and his mask covering his face. Neither of them expected this - that after a tearful argument and anguished confessions of hurt and loneliness, Christine would allow him to make love to her, kissing him softly and cradling him on top of her. He had sighed and buried his face against her neck, hugging her as he moved with intent. Harder, deeper, his arms winding around her, he thrust and gasped, then pulsed inside her.

She kissed his head as he pulsed gently, sagging heavily atop her body. "I love you," she said, and he wept quietly.

Hours later, and he was still curled up against her, his face pressed against the crook of her shoulder while his thin arms rested across her body. Absently, Christine ran the tips of her fingers up and down his back, feeling the bumps of his spine beneath the thin cloth of his night shirt. She let her lips brush the top of his head before pressing a soft kiss against the skin of his forehead, which peeked out from beneath the edge of his mask. She felt him stir, and she smiled, pressing another soft kiss against his forehead.

"Christine?" His voice was soft. Hesitant. She smiled and nuzzled against him, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Erik." Her voice was soft. She smiled at him, her eyes opening, meeting his.

"So this wasn't a dream," he said, and she held him warmly as he sank into her arms. She laughed softly and pressed another kiss to his cheek, hugging him. She kissed him softly, smiling into his mouth as her hands slid languidly up and down his back. She pressed soft, small kisses, her lips brushing tenderly against his. The mask dug against her cheek and she moved to push it aside.

"Is this okay?" Christine asked softly. Her fingers brushed the side of his mask. Erik nodded. Quietly she pushed it upward, then pulled it off, setting it onto the mattress like a shallow soup bowl. Lest he should get uncomfortable or shy, Christine pressed forward and kissed him again, pressing her body against his and wrapping her arms around him.

"Oh, my darling." He breathed softly, gasping a little as she pressed her lips to his neck. She could feel him thicken and harden against her body. "Oh, my sweet Christine."

Her fingers slid just below the hem of his shirt. "Is it okay if I touch you, Erik?"

Erik's voice was hoarse. "You may do to me whatever you'd like," and Christine laughed softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder. Her hands slid warmly beneath his shirt and over the cold skin of his back. He felt cool, almost clammy, the tips of her fingers gently following the curve of his ribs, how his spine led down to the twin crests of his hips as he ground his pelvis against hers. She jerked, her mouth popping open at the sudden burst of pleasure as his erection rubbed insistently against her nub, the flimsy fabric of their nightclothes serving as the only barrier between them. Instinctively she writhed, grinding her pelvis upward, rubbing against him as her nipples hardened against his chest. His arms snaked around hers as they kissed and breathed heavily.

Somehow, in the course of their ministrations, Christine found herself lying on her back, Erik resting between her legs and kissing her deeply. Almost as an afterthought, he pushed up the hem of her nightgown and dragged his mouth across her bare breasts, licking and kissing her nipples, his bony hands reaching up to pinch and roll the stiffened peaks. Christine moaned softly, arching her pelvis upward, needy and grinding her nub against his erection.

"Oh, Christine, Christine..." he groaned and all at once she could feel flesh against flesh, the raw nakedness of his erection sliding up and over her clit, because he had pushed his trousers down without her noticing. He was so hard, his cock was stiff and leaking, the pearly wetness beading up at the tip. He groaned, then lowered himself, pressing his face against her belly and breathing raggedly, before gently running his tongue across her swollen bud.

Christine cried out, then bucked at the sensation. Erik kissed and licked the sensitive nub, suckling softly. Christine writhed as the muscles in her thighs and buttocks tightened, the pleasure of Erik's hot mouth on her sex layering and growing, until she gasped, then pitched forward, jerking hard as sharp slashes of pleasure burst through her.

She fell back, nipples pebbled hard and breasts heaving, as Erik crawled over her body. With a hurried movement, he tugged off her nightgown and pulled off the rest of his clothes, baring his naked body. His bony chest pressed against hers as he nudged the head of his cock inside her.

Christine gasped, and Erik groaned as he pressed into her warm, wet slit. "Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was rough, but he exerted enough self-control to stop; it was only their second time and he didn't want to hurt her.

Christine nodded against his neck. "Go ahead," she said, and he groaned and pushed inside her.

He slid in with one smooth stroke, and Christine's arms and legs tightened around him. He throbbed inside her as he waited for her to accommodate him.

"My darling," he sighed, and they kissed softly. His penis twitched and Christine gasped and jerked suddenly. "My dear, sweet darling."

"I love you," she whispered, then sighed as he quietly mouthed the side of her neck, her eyes fluttering at the sensation.

They kissed, and he moved slowly, gentle, shallow strokes, letting her arch against his pelvis, the sweet nub of her loins rubbing against him. Her little pebbled nipples pressed against his bare chest as his thin arms clutched her back. She started to soften, and he groaned and scrabbled for purchase, his thrusts growing hard and erratic, pleasure crowding out his thoughts until everything spilled over and he came hard inside her.

Christine smiled, resting her hand on the top of his head, as Erik gasped and stuttered, pulsing hard while his heart hammered in his chest, his ragged breaths fanning against her neck. Her body twitched beneath his, a few aftershocks of pleasure, and they kissed gently, smiling as their lips brushed together.

"My love," Christine said, and Erik looked up at her adoringly, resting his head on her shoulder. They kissed, smiling as her hand cupped his face. Her lips gently brushed the side of his cheek.

They stayed like that a moment, holding each other and kissing softly, until Erik softened and slipped outside her. Christine chuckled, then pressed an adoring kiss to his neck as he moved sheepishly, reluctantly leaving the bed to clean himself. Christine shifted, then left the bed to perform her own ablutions. They climbed back into bed, Christine beaming and holding her arms out toward him.

"Oh Erik," Christine smiled broadly, wrapping her arms around Erik's naked torso and pulling the blankets around them. "That was lovely."

Erik chuckled against her neck. "I wish to make love to you a thousand times. I want nothing more than to embrace you and never let go."

She smiled and shifted him against her chest. "That can be arranged," she said, smiling. She fluffed his hair, then pressed her lips against his forehead. "I cannot believe a few hours earlier you were so afraid to touch me. And now look at us. I feel supremely happy."

"I regret that it took so long to have a proper wedding night," Erik said. Christine chuckled softly and hugged him.

Her eyes were growing heavy. Smiling sleepily, she nuzzled against the hollow of his throat and curled up against him. His skin was cool, but was warming beneath her touch. Smiling, she curled her body around his, before her body relaxed, and she fell into a blissful slumber.

*****

The first thing she became aware of, as she drowsily came into consciousness, was Erik's body curled up against hers, his thin body pressed against her back and his bony arms draped across her breast. There was no sound except for Erik's deep breathing and the ticking of the grandfather clock across the room, and as Christine's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she wondered if it was still night, or if it was already morning.

He shifted, then sighed sleepily, his arm tightening lovingly around her. Christine sighed and cuddled against him.

"Erik, are you awake?"

She felt his lips brush against her neck. A slight nod of the head. "Yes," he said, softly. She smiled and lightly stroked his hair.

"I wonder what time it is. Do you suppose it's morning?"

Erik shifted, looking at the clock. "It is 5 AM," he said, and he settled back down against her, sighing contentedly. Christine rolled onto her back, resting Erik on her chest and looking up at the ceiling.

"I do wish I could make love to you in the early morning," Christine said. She gently dragged the tips of her fingers down his spine, caressing him absently. "I would love to wake up to the light falling upon your sleeping face."

"Do not wish for such a thing; all you would see is the rotting corpse of a man lying coldly beside you in the bed."

"Corpses do not move," Christine said. She pressed her lips against his forehead. "And even now I can see you breathing."

They kissed again, Erik resting between her legs, already naked from their previous endeavors. She felt him harden again, his hips instinctively rocking against her clit as his soft breathing grew more ragged and labored.

"Erik?"

He sighed into her mouth. "Yes, Christine?"

She tilted her head upward to kiss him. "May I see you?"

A ragged sigh. "What do you mean?"

"Is it alright if we light a candle? I want to see you."

A pause. She felt him hesitate, but she arched her pelvis greedily and his penis twitched against her. He sighed into her mouth. "If we haven't already made love twice, I would be more reluctant," he said. Christine shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Erik, we don't have to if you don't want--"

"No, no, my dear, we can light a candle. In point of fact, I'd like to see your body in the light, too."

Christine grinned and bit her lip, slightly giddy as Erik reared up on his haunches, then twisted his torso to the side, reaching an arm across her body to light the candle. All at once, the room was lit with the bright orange glow of candlelight. Christine looked up and saw how the sharp angles of Erik's thin body, the bones of his hips and ribs casting angular shadows in the orange candelight, before her gaze landed on the muscular column of his erection, the head of which was broad and fat, curving upward toward the concave hollow of his stomach. She could see him throbbing, the tip leaking a pearly bead of slippery fluid.

Christine's pupils dilated. Her chest heaved as her lips parted.

Erik was staring as well; his eyes landed on the soft, teardrop-shaped mounds of her breasts, her nipples pebbled and poking out at him, as if begging to be licked.

"Erik?"

He dragged his eyes off her breasts and up toward her face. "Yes, my darling?"

Christine licked her lips. "May I...may I put my mouth on it?"

"Your mouth...?" Erik shuddered as she scooted closer.

"I'd...I'd like to taste it. Just as you tasted me a few hours ago."

Erik groaned. "Christine are you really saying...you wish to suck and lick the rod of my manhood inside your mouth?"

Christine blushed. "I want to please you as you pleased me," she said. Erik's penis twitched again. He let out a needy groan.

"Oh, my darling," he said, as Christine crawled toward his lap, carefully palming the side of his hip. "Oh, my sweet Christine. _Oh_ ," he said, as she carefully closed her lips over his swollen tip. He gasped raggedly, his hips pushing in slightly as Christine sucked and bobbed her head. There was a muted taste of salt, the slippery bead of pre-cum slicking around her tongue, and she swallowed a little, warm saliva drooling a little around the sides of her mouth.

"Christine." His voice was tight. He moaned softly. "Christine, here, my darling. Move...move this way," and his hands wrapped around her waist, shifting her body around and maneuvering her sideways. "Move so that," a gasp, "so that I may suckle your cunt. Yes, my darling, there," he said, as she repositioned herself, her knees on either side of his shoulders as she doggedly kept laving him, bobbing her head and occasionally letting one wet hand grip and stroke him.

Erik shuddered, then tilted his head upright, closing his lips around her clit and sucking carefully.

Christine gasped. The sensation made her lose track of what she was doing, his cock popping out of her mouth as she cried out and shuddered, rocking her hips against his hot mouth, his warm, wet tongue sliding up and around her nub. He gave her another firm suck and she jerked helplessly on top of him, gasping a little before sucking on his erection again. She exhaled through her nose, the tips of her nipples brushing against his stomach as she worked on him.

She was close. She doggedly bobbed her head, licking and sucking, feeling his cock thicken and swell, but then his tongue would swipe over her swollen nub, and she'd gasp and jerk, her hips rocking as he sucked and licked her. The pleasure was too much, and soon Christine was resting her head on his thigh, her wet hand curled around his length as she gasped and strained over his mouth, her nipples scraping against his body as her muscles tensed and she burst into orgasm. She gasped and jerked, clit twitching, and as soon as the pleasure spiraled down she took Erik into her mouth again, sucking hard and bobbing her head. She felt his muscles tense as well, his hips moving a fraction, as if he was straining hard not to pump into her mouth. She couldn't see his face, but she could hear his ragged breathing, growing more helpless and increasingly ragged, until he gasped and pulsed, his penis spurting against her tongue.

She swallowed. Erik stuttered, gasping, as Christine gently sucked and swallowed his seed, her hands resting on his thighs while her hair fell in a messy curtain over his legs. He softened and she lifted her head, twisting her body around to look at him.

Erik's head was turned to the side, breathing hard, his chest heaving. His mouth was slack and his face was pleasured and red. She beamed at him, then lay down next to him, smiling and pressing her face against his neck.

"Oh, Christine." He lifted a shaky hand to her head. "How good you are to your poor Erik. I never knew I could feel such joy."

Christine laughed into his neck.

The candle flickered. Christine's eyes were hazy as she drew soft circles on his chest, tracing the line of his sternum down to the concave groove of his diaphragm. She let her hand rest just below his navel, right above his pubic bone, the tips of her fingers idly worrying over the light spattering of coarse hair.

Erik turned on his side, then shyly reached out to palm her breasts. He gently rolled her nipples between his fingers, stooping down to kiss and lick them. Christine sighed and shifted her legs, and Erik took that as a cue to stroke her gently, the pad of his finger dipping inside her before spreading the wetness across her nub.

Christine let out a shuddery sigh. "I feel as if I could again reach my crisis," she said, and Erik dipped forward to press a kiss behind her ear.

Another sigh, her hips rocking against his hand, and Erik took that as a cue to move down again, pressing his flushed face between her legs and laving her fully. Christine let out a sobbing moan, sensitive and close to the edge, when her body beared down and she was coming again, her body contracting with the rolling wave of a second orgasm, before she fell back, limp and pliant. Before she could relax she felt his fingers slipping inside her, curling against her inner wall and pressing on a swollen patch, his thumb rubbing on her clit in arrhythmic circles.

Christine let out a sobbing moan, squirming and over sensitive, before she realized Erik was hard again. He gently pulled his hand out from inside her, then positioned his cock between the pink lips, then slowly pushed inside her.

 _Stroke, stroke stroke_ , his cock slid in and out, her walls battered and aching, while he sighed and gasped, hugging her. Christine clung to him as he thrust, gasping and breathing heavily, until her body snapped forward and she came again, harsh, greedy contractions, while Erik's arms tightened around her as he scrabbled for purchase. Harder, faster, his breath coming out in tight spurts, he thrust harder and faster until he gasped and came, pulsing hard, his whole body sagging on top of hers.

Christine laughed, breathless, draping an arm across his back. "Oh, Erik," she said, and she nuzzled him. He beamed at her, exhausted but happy. They got up and cleaned themselves, before Erik snuffed out the candle, and the two of them fell back asleep.

*****

The clock ticked, and Christine's eyes opened again.

The room was still dark. She still couldn't tell the time of day. By now the candle that had been lit by the piano had most likely burned out, and so there was nothing to look at except the pitch black darkness. She could feel Erik's thin body shifting against hers, the clamminess of his skin making her shiver despite herself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Christine." Erik's voice sounded tearful and a little hurt, so Christine ameliorated that by flopping her body over his and hugging him, tight.

"Forgive me, Erik," Christine said. "Your skin is just so cold. I didn't mean to shiver."

His voice was soft. "I thought perhaps you were disgusted by me."

"No no, you just felt cold."

They fell quiet a moment.

"Forgive me," Erik said, finally. "For all we've made love, Christine, I'm still expecting this to be a dream. I suppose...I suppose I'm not used to this," Erik said, holding her. "I fear that instinct will take over, and you'll touch me and recoil."

"Your skin is warming up," Christine said. She rested her cheek on his chest. "I shall hold you until you feel warm."

She felt his hand card through her hair, quietly.

"Erik. How many times now have we made love?"

"A few times now. I am beginning to lose count."

She cuddled him. "Then you should know how good it feels to touch your body. It feels good when you're inside me."

"Christine?"

"Yes, Erik?"

He hesitated. "May I ask you to try something for me?"

"What is it?" Christine asked. She felt his hand hesitantly on her hip.

"Will you...will you make love to me, on top of me?"

"Eh?"

Erik pressed his lips to her neck. "It is a fantasy," he murmured. He rubbed his mouth against her shoulder, adoringly. "If you were on top of me, I would know that you without a doubt wanted me. To have you moving with me inside you, of your own volition...it would remind me that you love me."

Christine blushed. "How would I climb on top of you?"

"Straddle your legs across my hips, like so."

He lay on his back, and Christine hovered over him hesitantly. She couldn't see, so she had to rely on the feel of his body to guide herself to position. "Like this?" she asked, and she hesitantly wrapped her hand around his length, guiding him toward her entrance.

Erik sighed. "Yes."

Carefully, she swiped his head a little by her lower lips, before lowering herself, feeling herself splitting open with his width. She fully sheathed him inside her and she leaned against his chest. She felt him twitch inside of her.

"How should I move?" she whispered. His hands rested on her hips.

"Move as you like," he sighed softly. "Move so that it feels good to you."

She rocked slowly, her aching clit pressed deliciously up against his pelvis. Erik let out a shuddery sigh and gently palmed both her breasts in his hands, carefully rolling her nipples and thrusting upwards to meet her movements.

"That feels good," Christine said, softly. She leaned forward. "Are yours sensitive, too?"

"What do you mean?" Erik asked. Christine breathed softly.

"Your nipples," she said, and Erik let out a shuddery breath. She leaned forward and gently flicked his nipple with her tongue.

Erik groaned. She rocked harder, grinding down against him.

All at once, Erik gasped, then came suddenly, twitching and throbbing, his seed spurting hard inside of her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my poor darling, I'm so sorry." Erik gasped and stuttered, pulsing helplessly. Christine hugged him, smiling.

"Did it feel good, my Erik?"

"It felt very good," he said, earnestly. "It felt heavenly."

Christine giggled. She slipped out of him, his seed dripping down her thigh.

"Oh dear," Christine said, but Erik rolled her over, kissing her deeply.

"Allow me to make it up to you," Erik said, and he dipped down between her legs again.

*****

Christine was lying on her back, her legs tangled in the sheets, gazing up at the ceiling while Erik played with her breasts. He was rolling her nipples thoughtfully, the way one might palm a worry stone in their hand, dipping down every so often to press a kiss to the pebbled tip. "Erik, what time do you think it is? Do you suppose it is still mid-morning?"

"It is probably around lunch time, if I were to hazard a guess."

"Hm." Christine looked up at the ceiling again. "Erik?"

He gently suckled her nipple. "Yes, my darling?"

"I don't suppose we can have breakfast in bed?"

Erik lifted his head. Christine turned on her pillow to face him.

"I am a bit hungry," Christine said. Erik sat up.

"Oh, Christine!" Erik cried. "Forgive me!" and he scrambled off the bed.

Christine started laughing. "Erik!"

"Your husband did a poor job of taking care of his wife," Erik said, as he threw on his clothes. "My darling, come. Let me fetch you your robe."

Christine giggled. "Can we light another candle? It's so dark."

"Oh, Christine! Of course, of course!"

He lit a candle.

They rowed across the lake, Erik insisting he would take his wife out for a proper lunch. He was wearing his mask again - not because of Christine, but because the people of Paris would undoubtedly be horrified by the sight of his face - while Christine wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, her wedding ring gleaming in the dim light.

"There, my dear," Erik said, helping her off the boat. He held her hand. "Perhaps after lunch we can take a little walk?"

"I'd like that," Christine said, smiling. She hugged his arm.

*****

"Erik?"

"Yes, my darling?"

They were at a little cafe, Christine eating her lunch while Erik watched her, contentedly. "How long have we been married?" Christine asked. She set down her teacup. Erik considered.

"A few weeks, at the very least."

"I cannot believe it took us this long," Christine said. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand affectionately.

Beneath the mask, she could see Erik smile.


	2. Chapter 2

At the little sidewalk cafe, Christine devoured a piece of chocolate cake, pausing to lick her fingers while Erik watched contentedly.

"You aren't eating anything?" Christine asked. She set down her fork while Erik smiled and shook his head.

"I have no need," Erik said, and his eyes sparkled behind the mask. Christine frowned, shaking her head.

"This is why you are so painfully thin," Christine said. She reached across the table to clasp his hand. "I shall find a way to make you gain weight yet."

Erik laughed. It was a beautiful sound, surprising and open, and Christine beamed and squeezed his hand.

"At the very least, you will let me try this."

"Try what?" Erik said, and Christine held up a forkful of cake toward the side of his mask.

"Open up," she said, smiling. "I'd like you to try this."

Erik ducked his head, chuckling. "You endeavor to feed me?"

"By force if necessary. Say 'ah.'"

Erik smiled at her. "Ah," he said, smiling, and Christine leaned forward to guide the fork into his mouth.

Erik leaned back, chewing and swallowing. "Delicious."

"See? This is why you should eat!"

"I would have to remove my mask," Erik said quietly, and Christine looked at him sadly, the lightness of their banter suddenly unbearably heavy.

"Perhaps I should just feed you then," she said, and she took another forkful of cake and held it to his mouth.

******

Erik in the sunlight was a sight Christine never thought she would see. All around her, the streets of Paris seemed drab and remarkably familiar, people bustling down sidewalks paying them no notice. Christine wound her arm around Erik's and leaned against his side.

"You know, I used to dream of this," Erik said. Christine looked up, smiling at him. "You, as my little wife. Taking walks on Sundays and stopping by the cafe to share a slice of cake."

"Mm. It isn't Sunday," Christine said, and Erik chuckled, ducking his head.

"You are so marvelous," Erik said. "A spark of sunshine upon your poor Erik. I never dreamed I could be this happy."

Christine grinned and leaned against him. "You would do well to get used to it," Christine said. She looked up at him. "We will be doing a lot of this."

"The people are hardly looking at me," Erik said. He looked around at the other Parisians. "With you beside me, they barely notice my mask. You as my wife are better at disguising me."

"How am I disguising you?" Christine said. Erik smiled.

"Why, by allowing me to blend in with the rest of humanity," Erik said. His arm slid across her waist, pulling her close. "A masked man on a little walk with his wife. My mask might as well be a top hat and a monocle, so mundane we are acting as a proper couple."

"Mm. I can't imagine you with a monocle," Christine said.

"Nor a top hat, either."

Christine laughed warmly.

"Oh Christine. You deserve to be in the sunlight, for always. Look at you," Erik said. He smiled. "You look supremely happy."

"I am happy," Christine said. She beamed at him. "I am walking with you."

Erik smiled, but his eyes grew misty.

"Erik?" Christine moved around him to look up at him. "Erik, are you alright?"

Erik smiled and took a breath. "I'm just so happy," he said, his voice breaking. A tear slipped and they both reached to wipe his eyes.

Christine smiled, then carefully wrapped her fingers around his hand. She tugged his arm back down and laced her fingers around his.

"As I said," she said, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him, "you should get used to this."

Erik let out a rueful laugh, ducking his head.

"I want to buy us a proper flat," Erik said, getting a hold of himself. "Something with a red door and an open window. Something that would let the sunlight in."

"I should like that," Christine said. They started walking again. "It would be good for our children."

"Children?" Erik looked back at her, surprised. Christine smiled.

"It's my understanding children would be the result of our endeavors."

Erik laughed again, hugging her. "My little wife and children!"

Christine giggled. "I am not with child yet," Christine said. Her eyes flicked upward. She grinned, wickedly.

Erik leaned forward. "Well we shall have to rectify that."

"Erik?"

He playfully yanked her by the arm and scurried down the sidewalk, making Christine shriek and laugh.

"You are incorrigible!" Christine said, delighted. Erik stopped to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Your husband is very pleased."

"Oh, is he?"

"He is indeed."

Christine giggled. They kissed and a few Parisians glanced at them curiously before walking around them.

They started walking again, this time at an anxious pace. What was a leisurely stroll now turned into a fast pace down the sidewalk, Erik suddenly hellbent at getting her back to the bridal bed. "We shall go to the opera," Erik said, and Christine laughed at him.

"The opera? Didn't you want to go back to bed?"

"I shall show you another one of my fantasies," Erik said wickedly.

*****

The cast was rehearsing onstage down below, Carlotta bellowing like a croaking frog while her attendants scurried around to placate her.

Christine leaned over the balcony, looking down at the clueless singers setting the stage below them. "Can they really not see?" Christine asked. Erik stepped behind her

"Not at all," Erik said. The tips of his fingers brushed back the hair of her neck. "They are too wrapped up in their rehearsal to notice."

Carlotta made a shriek, then slapped the hat off one of the poor stagehands who was fussing with her costume. Christine felt Erik's lips brush against her nape. She giggled.

"I feel so scandalous," Christine said, as Erik brazenly stroked his hand across the thick fabric of her skirt, his body pressing behind hers as she leaned forward on the balcony.

Erik's voice was a shaky whisper. "I need to be inside you," he said. His warm breath ghosted across her neck. "If I don't feel you, I am certain I shall die."

"Well we can't have that now, can we?" Christine said, smiling, and Erik answered by kissing her neck and breathing raggedly, the proof of his desire nudging against her back.

The arranged themselves back on the seats, Erik sitting down upon the plush cushions while Christine reached beneath her skirts and tugged down her bloomers. He looked at her delighted as she reached for his shoulders and clumsily sat on top of him.

"Oh, your pants!" Christine said, and Erik laughed.

"What was that?" the stagehand said, and Carlotta smacked him across the forehead.

Christine giggled. They kissed while Christine moved and worked on his belt buckle, pushing down his trousers and freeing his erection. Carefully, she shifted the thick fabric of her skirts up, grasping his length with one hand while moving he skirts back with the other, before sinking down atop him.

The cast practiced their markings, blocking out their movements, unaware that just above them, one of their own was gasping and straddling the opera ghost. Christine moaned softly against Erik's neck as she moved clumsily, balancing against the chair while the sides of the armrests dug uncomfortably against her thighs, unable to move as easily as she did when they were lying in bed. They tried to be quiet, a knot of pleasure forming at her nub as Christine moved against him; she was aware of Erik's soft pants, the soft, wet sounds of their sex, obscene and squelching with their movements.

"You stupid man, what do you think you're doing?" Carlotta screeched, while around her the hapless managers apologized profusely.

Christine shuddered. Her nipples strained pebbled through her blouse and her thighs shook as she rocked on top of him, her little bud hardening and her breath fanning shakily across his neck. Her pleasure grew, frustratingly close but not quite enough for completion.

"Are you okay?" Erik said lowly. Christine shook her head.

"This seat is too small, I can't move properly."

"May we try something?"

"What is it?" Christine said, and Erik shifted beneath her.

"Perhaps a position where we can both see what she is doing," Erik said, and Christine laughed softly.

Carlotta was raging. The director was following her piteously while she raged at the rest of the cast. Quietly, Erik positioned Christine right at the edge of the balcony, carefully leaning her forward. Pushing up her skirts, he bared her bottom and carefully positioned himself between her legs.

Carlotta's voice rose to a fever pitch just as Erik slid up inside her with one smooth stroke, and Christine let out a strangled gasp, trembling as the head of his erection pushed roughly against a sensitive patch. He moved and began sawing in and out, Christine nearly shrieking at the pleasurable sensation. Her knees buckled and her hands gripped the metal bars as Erik leaned against her back.

"Incompetent!" Carlotta raged. "The whole of you! Incompetent!"

Christine let out a soft shriek as Erik reached around her and started stroking her nub.

Her knees wobbled. Erik's thrusts were arrhythmic, balancing between keeping Christine semi-upright and rubbing the little bud of her clit with his thrusts. She hissed and beared down against his hand, little pops of pleasure escaping her, before she burst into orgasm and almost lost her balance. "Ah!" Christine cried, and she jerked hard, her body pitching forward violently.

"What was that?" Carlotta said, and Erik gasped and came behind Christine, throbbing hard as he spilled inside her.

Their heartbeats slowed. Christine giggled as Carlotta looked around, pissed off and irritated, trying to find the source of that strange sound. From behind her, Erik produced a handkerchief, and like a gentleman, daubed the tender parts of her womanhood, wiping away any errant wetness. Christine fixed her skirts and giggled at the sight of Erik sheepishly wiping his penis, before tucking himself back into his pants.

"Do you feel better?" Christine asked, wickedly. Erik chuckled.

"Undoubtedly," Erik said, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many WIPs that never see the light of day; recently I've been digging them up and posting them lol.
> 
> There were originally more sex acts in this fic (doggy style, sex in box 5, fingering behind a curtain while the Daroga is waiting outside, mutual masturbation etc), but they were pretty repetitive so I edited them out. If I get around to rewriting things I may add them back in, though :)
> 
> ETA 10/31/20 - Since everyone left such lovely feedback asking about the rest of this fic, I've decided to do my best to edit and post the rest of it XDDD There's one last bit of this fic where Erik and Christine fool around while the Daroga is waiting; that part is rough and needs some editing lol, so it may be awhile before I post it :) Thank you for all your comments!


End file.
